Foxey Lady
by LynnAgate
Summary: Logan sends Max and Alec on an Eyes Only mission to a fetish club. Quick one-shot. Disclaimer: Dark Angel is owned by James Cameron and Charles H. Eglee. For entertainment purposes only.


Max wouldn't tell Alec what was in her duffel, and despite his constant, unsuccessful attempts to steal it from her and peek inside, she wouldn't drop any hints. The more he wanted to know, the more she cursed Logan for doing this to her.

By the time they arrived at Logan's penthouse, Max seemed more pissed off than usual, burst through the front door without so much as a 'hi,' and rushed to the bathroom.

"Hey…guys," Logan said as a flurry of brunette floated out of the room in a blur.

"What's in the bag?" Alec asked, without returning the older man's pleasantries.

Logan looked toward the direction of the bathroom. "She didn't tell you about the mission?" He looked back to Alec, who, having firmly planted himself on the arm of his living room leather couch, awaited more information. "It's for the Eyes Only mission tonight."

Alec bowed his head in annoyance. "Yeah, I kinda figured, what with Max yanking me away from this very voluptuous, stilty blonde. She wouldn't say why, though, but judging by the list of profanities aimed directly your way, I'd say it's gotta be good, and that I'm entitled to know, because one, I had plans tonight, and two, how can I be my best if I'm going into the mission dark?"

Finally able to get a word in edgewise, Logan opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a shouting voice from the bathroom.

"You always rush into things dark. Comes with being an arrogant ass."

Alec's grin grew and he wagged his eyebrows at Logan. "It is gonna be good, isn't it?"

Logan sighed. "I'm sending you two to a club in sector three to collect some evidence which shows Senator Romano accepting bribes."

Alec was paying attention to Logan, but his enhanced hearing picked up some of Max's shuffling about in the restroom. She sounded as if she might be muttering under her breath about murdering Logan for this, and then there were a couple of shallow gasps followed by something being tied, and another thing being zipped. He returned his full attention to Logan, who had just asked him a question, judging by the look on his face.

Well, he thought he had been paying attention. "Huh?"

"So you'll do it, right?"

He wasn't sure what Loan had asked, but it couldn't have been anything too dangers. And if it was, whatever, he'd done tons of dangerous things before. "Sure," he said, noticing how Logan's eyebrows had floated up in relief.

"Good," Logan said. "You can help protect Max."

"From what?" he asked, his transgenic hearing picking up two more zipper noises.

"Not from what, from whom," Logan corrected, folding his arms impatiently. Hadn't he just explained the scenario to the blond X5?

Alec stood up and made his way to the kitchen. "Okay, from 'whom'?" he mocked, matching Logan's intonation. Finding a jar of peanut butter and a spoon, Alec carried both items back to the living room and deposited himself on the couch.

"Thanks for asking," Logan snarked, staring at the peanut butter.

"You don't mind, do you buddy?" Alec replied, setting the cap upside down on the coffee table and plunging the spotless spoon into the jar's chunky tan goodness.

Logan sighed. _No manners, the bunch of them._

"Protect Max from whom?" Alec repeated, scooping peanut butter into his mouth with the spoon peanut butter side down on his tongue.

"From the other patrons," Logan said, raising his voice in frustration. "I just went over this!"

The bathroom door opened and the two men heard high-heeled footsteps heading down the hallway toward them. They each looked up to the door jamb and awaited Max's entrance.

Alec caught sight of one narrow ankle – her left, poised mid-step, its foot clad in a black patent leather, impossibly high-heeled Mary Jane-type stiletto, and as she moved, his eyes followed the exposed skin up her slender calf, over her knee, and what seemed to be too far up her thigh, until finally, a leather miniskirt, laced up the side of her hip, interrupted the expanse of her leg. Even with his enhanced vision, he couldn't tell if the mess of strings which kept the skirt skintight included some kind of string bikini thong or not, and he suddenly felt uncomfortable with Logan's presence, considering the amount of pressure which seemed to be building in his own body.

Frozen in anticipation, Alec followed the side of her skirt until its bindings tied, then further as a sliver of her midriff peeked out between the skirt and her corset top, which itself, barely contained her. Her arms were bare and looked smooth and soft, and her hair was pulled back, pinned to the top of her head in less than a half-ponytail. The rest of it hung perfectly straight.

Alec followed the dip at her collarbone up the side of her neck, and finally to her eyes. Shadowed in smokiness, her eyes, for what felt like the first time ever, were glued to his. He saw her pupils dilate just a fraction and wondered if it was because of the look he was undoubtedly sporting. She looked away, but he couldn't help but allow his eyes to travel down to her lips, painted a deep red, slightly parted.

She licked them out of nervousness before she steeled herself, straightened her back (making her chest pop out, or so Alec thought), and said, "One. Just one sarcastic remark and I will use every weapon I have to hurt you." She swung her right arm forward to reveal a leather whip.

The spoon was stuck to his tongue by peanut butter, but Alec's mouth was watering, and suddenly he couldn't swallow.

Max watched how both men sat, mouths agape, motionless, by her mere presence, not blinking, not speaking, not looking at one another, and neither reacting to her threat.

The spoon fell from Alec's mouth, and he caught it without tearing his eyes from her.

"Wow," Logan said, breaking the silence and the stare Max had with Alec. "You look…" he trailed, unable to find the right word.

Alec quickly swallowed the peanut butter and his eyes grew dark, as if he was sizing up his prey. He stuffed the just-licked spoon back into the peanut butter and set the jar down on the coffee table. He saw Max inhale deeply, waiting for his response. "Please tell me this Romano guy frequents Fetish," he asked Logan, unable to move his eyes from Max.

Logan nodded, and another wanton look spread across Alec's face as he stared up at Max, trying to decide if he should refrain from saying what was on his mind. _Right, like I've ever refrained from something I want, _he thought.

But when he opened his mouth to speak, Max dug into her duffel and brought out something else leather.

"Please. Don't add a thing," Alec said. "You'll be too hot to handle."

"This isn't for me," she informed, tossing him the garment. "It's for you."

Alec unfolded the mess to discover he was holding men's leather pants. He looked up at Max in slight confusion, then over to Logan. The realization dawned on him. He looked confidently at Logan. "I'm her client," he stated, though there was a twinge of question in his voice.

Logan nodded. "You just said you would help."

He looked at the pants. "And I have to wear this?"

Max smiled devilishly.

"Because you're into bondage in a big way?" he asked, looking to Max.

"Gotta get my licks in where I can, don't I?"

Alec took a deep breath and stared Max right in the eyes. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? Why wouldn't you be? You'll take any excuse to hit me, why wouldn't you take this opportunity to enact your little sadist fantasies? You know what? That's alright, Mistress Maxie." He stood up and walked toward her at the door jamb. "I'm game."

"If I'm a sadist, you're a masochist. Or else how do you explain your penchant for always coming back to me for an ass-kicking?"

"I never said I didn't enjoy your brand of discipline," he quipped. He added quietly, "We need to think of a safe word."

Max scowled. "Bite me."

"No," he said, breezing past her to the bathroom to change. "I like that."

* * *

"What happened? Why are you here so late?"

A guilty smile spread on Alec's face as he dropped the envelope of photos on Logan's desk and began walking toward the bathroom. "Do you have any antiseptic?"

"Wait, what happened to the camera?" Logan followed Alec down the hall.

"Let's just say there's some stuff on it neither Max nor I want you to see."

"What's that supposed to mean? Where's Max?"

Once in the bathroom, Alec pulled his shirt over his head, inadvertently giving Logan an eyeful of his back, which was covered in whip marks and bruises, and said, "Nothing, she's fine," before turning to close the door.

In the moment before the door shut, Logan saw dozens of whip and bite marks all over his chest – in Max's shade of lipstick – some of which had even broken skin, and the reflection in the mirror betrayed Alec's small smile.


End file.
